Shadows and Secrets

Ava barely slept that night.

The manila envelope sat on her desk like a loaded gun, its contents burning a hole in her conscience. Raymond Holloway. A name she had only ever associated with wealth, power, and a pristine reputation. But Damian Moretti believed otherwise.

And now, he expected her to prove it.

She stared at the surveillance photos spread out before her. Holloway stepping out of a blacked-out luxury car. Holloway shaking hands with men whose faces were blurred. Holloway slipping into private meetings in places that didn’t fit his usual, polished image.

Damian’s words echoed in her head:

“Find out who he’s dealing with. Who he’s paying off. Who he’s afraid of.”

Ava exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. This wasn’t just a story anymore. It was a job. A test.

And failure wasn’t an option.

She knew, she just new she could not fail and so she wouldn’t.

By morning, she had a plan.

If Holloway was doing something shady, there would be whispers. People always talked—bartenders, waiters, security guards. You just had to know where to listen.

She dressed the part, slipping into a fitted black dress and heels, adding just enough glam to blend into the upscale casino scene. If Holloway was hiding something, he wouldn’t be lurking in the shadows—he’d be in plain sight, untouchable because no one had ever dared to touch him.

Tonight, she would change that.

The Mirage Casino was one of the city’s crown jewels—gold-trimmed interiors, marble floors, and high rollers who threw away fortunes like loose change.

Ava moved through the crowd with practiced ease, her eyes sweeping over the tables, the bars, the VIP lounges. And then—

There he was.

Raymond Holloway, seated at a high-stakes poker table, flanked by bodyguards. The man radiated the kind of wealth that made people look but never question.

She took a seat at the bar nearby, ordered a drink, and watched.

For an hour, she saw nothing unusual. Just another rich man playing rich man’s games.

Then, a shift.

A new player joined the table.

A wiry man with sharp features, a little too cautious, a little too tense. The way Holloway’s posture stiffened, the way the bodyguards subtly adjusted—it wasn’t just a game anymore.

Ava leaned forward slightly.

She couldn’t hear their conversation, but she could see the tension. The new man slid something across the table—a small flash drive, almost invisible to an untrained eye. Holloway pocketed it in one smooth motion.

Her pulse quickened.

What the hell was on that drive?

She needed to get closer.

Sliding off her barstool, she wove through the casino floor, keeping to the edges of the crowd until she was near the high-rollers’ lounge. Just as she was about to step forward—

A hand closed around her wrist.

Ava’s breath caught as she spun around, coming face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered man in a sharp navy suit. He wasn’t one of Holloway’s guards.

But he wasn’t a stranger, either.

Vincent.

Damian Moretti’s right-hand man.

A slow smirk played at the corner of his lips. “Looking for someone, Sinclair?”

Ava forced a casual expression. “Just enjoying the view.”

Vincent chuckled, low and knowing. “I don’t think Moretti would appreciate you straying too far.”

Her jaw tightened. “I don’t work for him.”

Vincent’s grip on her wrist loosened, but his amusement remained. “Not yet.”

She pulled away, stepping back just as Holloway rose from his seat. He murmured something to his men before heading toward a private elevator at the rear of the casino.

Her window was closing.

Without hesitation, she turned and followed.

She kept a safe distance as Holloway and his entourage disappeared through a restricted door. A security guard stood watch, scanning the crowd.

Ava’s mind raced. She needed a way past him. Fast.

Then she spotted it. A distracted waitress balancing a tray of expensive champagne.

Without a second thought, Ava moved.

She stepped directly into the waitress’s path, feigning a stumble. The tray tipped, glasses crashing to the floor in a glittering mess of liquid and crystal.

The security guard cursed and turned to help, just as Ava slipped past him.

The door clicked shut behind her.

She was in.

The hallway was dimly lit, lined with sleek, numbered doors. At the far end, she saw them—Holloway and the mysterious man from the poker table stepping into a private suite.

Ava pressed herself against the wall, heart hammering.

She needed to hear what was happening inside.

Edging closer, she crouched beside the door, listening.

At first, just muffled voices. Then—

“…not part of the deal.” Holloway’s voice, tight with frustration.

A second voice, lower, sharper. “It wasn’t supposed to be. But Moretti is watching. We need to move faster.”

Ava’s breath hitched.

Moretti?

She strained to hear more.

Holloway exhaled sharply. “You think I don’t know that? He’s always watching. We have to be careful.”

There was a beat of silence, then the rustle of movement.

“Then we finish it before he does.”

Ava barely had time to process the words before—

The door handle moved.

Her stomach dropped.

Footsteps. Fast, approaching.

She spun, searching for an exit—

Too late.

The door flew open, light spilling into the hallway.

And Raymond Holloway stepped out.

Their eyes locked.

For a split second, neither of them moved.

Then—

Ava ran.

She sprinted down the dimly lit hallway, adrenaline surging through her veins. The sound of footsteps thundered behind her—heavy, fast, relentless.

She didn’t dare look back, couldn’t dare. She had been caught eavesdropping on one of the most powerful men in Vegas. If they caught her, there would be no second chances.

Her heels skidded against the polished floor as she rounded a sharp corner, barely missing a security guard stepping out of a side room. His surprised shout echoed behind her, but she didn’t stop.

Think, Ava. Think!

Ahead, the hallway split into two directions. Left led to an emergency exit, but the flashing ALARM WILL SOUND sign made it a death trap. Right led deeper into the restricted area of the casino—dangerous, but possibly her only chance of slipping away unseen.

She veered right.

The hallway narrowed, the plush red carpet swallowing the sound of her footsteps. Doors lined the corridor—offices, storage rooms, maybe even secret lounges. She needed somewhere to hide.

Ava spotted a slightly ajar door and shoved herself inside, pressing her back against the wall just as two men stormed past.

“Find her!” one of them barked. “Now.”

She held her breath, waiting. The footsteps faded, replaced by the distant hum of casino noise.

Only then did she dare to exhale.

The room was dark, but as her eyes adjusted, she realized where she was—an executive lounge, complete with a sleek leather couch, expensive liquor bottles, and a private balcony overlooking the main casino floor.

Her pulse was still hammering in her chest when a voice broke the silence.

“Well, well.”

Ava whipped around.

Damian Moretti stood in the shadows, leaning against the bar with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement, but there was something else beneath the surface—something unreadable.

She stiffened. “How long have you been standing there?”

He took a slow sip of his drink before answering. “Long enough.”

Her fingers curled into fists. “Are you going to turn me in?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “That depends. Are you going to tell me why you were running from Raymond Holloway’s private suite?”

Ava hesitated. She didn’t trust him—not entirely. But she knew one thing for sure: if anyone could protect her right now, it was Damian.

“I heard my name,” she admitted. “Holloway and someone else were talking about you. About finishing something before you do.”

Damian’s expression didn’t change, but she saw the shift in his posture—the way his grip on the glass tightened slightly.

“Holloway’s been careful,” he murmured. “I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to talk business in a casino.”

Ava folded her arms. “What exactly is he up to?”

Damian studied her for a long moment, as if deciding how much to tell her.

Finally, he set his glass down and stepped closer.

“Holloway isn’t just a casino mogul,” he said, voice low. “He launders money for some of the most dangerous people in the world. And now, he’s trying to cut me out of the deal.”

Ava’s stomach twisted. Laundering money.

“This is bigger than I thought,” she admitted.

Damian’s gaze locked onto hers. “And now that you’ve stuck your nose into it, it’s bigger for you, too.”

Ava swallowed hard. “Are you saying I’m in danger?”

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, but there was no humor in it. “I’m saying you’ve just made enemies, Sinclair.”

She exhaled sharply. She had expected danger when she started digging into Vegas’s underworld, but now? Now she was part of the game.

“I need to disappear,” she muttered.

Damian chuckled softly. “That’s where I come in.”

Ava’s eyes narrowed. “And what’s your price?”

He leaned in slightly, close enough that she caught the faint scent of whiskey and expensive cologne.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he murmured.

Ava had always known Damian Moretti wasn’t a man who helped without expecting something in return.

But standing in the darkened lounge, knowing Holloway’s men were still searching for her, she realized she had no choice.

She had walked into the lion’s den.

Now, she had to make a deal with the devil to survive.